the raven
by pondlilyrue
Summary: once upon a midnight dreary, while i pondered weak and weary. peeta/katniss


The Raven

**A/N: **Hello guys! Sorry, I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy with school and life. But, this idea just slapped me in the face last night so I knew I had to write it. In school, we have been studying Edgar Allan Poe and all his _awesome _works and this is my favorite poem of his. It's called "The Raven." Having OHGD (Obsessive Hunger Games Disorder), I _had _to make a story with these two amazing things in them so.. here is the result. I accept constructive criticism because I'm 13 :) And flames make me the girl on fire! That being said, I suggest you read the poem before this so you can understand it better. That being said, bye for now! ;)

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_Once upon a midninght dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary_

_Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-_

_While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping_

_As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door_

"_'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -_

_Only this and nothing more."_

.

Once upon a midnight dreary, a young girl of about eighteen, tossed and turned under her sheets. Her feet were kicking off to the side, her arms flailing around, her lips parted. She was murmuring words under her breath as haunting images filled her mind, tragic memories from the war. She fought against a flashback of Prim being set aflame at the hands of the bombs designed by the calloused hands of her best friend, Gale. _No, no, no _the raven-haired girl thought as she replayed it again and again and again. The scene changed. Rose-scented lizards slivered slyly in the underground passageway, their bright teeth glinting in the moonlight as they navigate the young bronze haired man. He struggled against their vice like grip but his attempts proved futile. He gave a cry as they pierced a sharp tooth into his collarbone. Tears streamed down Finnick Odair's face openly, and just like that his head lolled to the side, useless on the floor of the sewage. The young girl woke up.

Katniss dabbed at her wet eyes, knowing full well she was weeping during her nightmare. She slowly stretched, hopped out of her torture chamber and glanced at her appearance in the mirror. Her reflection showed a classically beautiful, but troubled, girl with long black hair and silver cat eyes. Her raven hair had wound its way out of her signature braid, flyaway strands decorating her haunted face. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, taking a deep calming breath. Just then, did the young girl notice her throat was hoarse from screaming. She flinched at the thought of someone else overhearing her nightly struggle. Prying her brush from a corner of her unused vanity, Katniss slowly brushed her thick hair, the methodical movement and repetition of the strokes a calming technique for her.

When she was done fixing up her hair, she sauntered over to her closet and threw on a cover-up. It was of a deep rich red coloring with dandelions peppered across the fabric, a gift from her mother in District Four. Katniss knew one place that she could find solace in after her nightmare. She opened the door separating her bedroom from the balcony. The young girl could feel the breeze dancing through the moonlight air. The air was fresh and sweet like the dandelions that grow in the Meadow in the outskirts of District Twelve. She sat down on an old rocking chair that she placed out here, for she had used this place as somewhere only she knew and went to after a rough night.

Katniss gazed at the stars twinkling in the midnight sky and immediately felt a stab of nostalgia. The twinkling constellations plaed high in the night reminded her of the brightest person she knew. Surprisingly, it wasn't Prim. Nor her father. It was a boy of her age whom she had grown to love very deeply. In fact, Katniss loved this boy so much that loving him was so deeply enrouted in her that she didn't notice it until it was too late. The boy wasn't dead. His mind was though. The overcontrolling government, the evil forces, managed to brainwash him until he was so far gone that there was no hope of him coming back. She winced at the notion.

Katniss brushed a stray strand of raven hair back from her face, closed her eyes again, and remembering when Peeta did the same for her. But it was so different. Yes, it felt nice, the gentle back and forward motions, but when Peeta touched her – when the love of her life caressed her – a stab of electricity danced in the air between them. She missed that; she missed everything about him. His cerulean colored eyes, his ash blonde hair that fell in waves over his forehead, his stocky build, his loud footsteps that scared off game everywhere. She missed how he would bend down to kiss her, for she was a petite young girl. She missed.. everything. Katniss reminisced the good times to get her through the lonely night.

_Sometimes, when she was alone, she took the pearl from where it lived in her pocket, and tried to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. _

Peeta couldn't return to District Twelve. Katniss heard Haymitch say that he had to stay in the Capitol for a lengthy amount of time to overcome the hijacking. But, even the old drunken mentor knew that it was futile. There was only so much that could happen to one person before they broke. Without her consent, salty teardrops flicked from her eyelids and down her face, to her neck, then landed on her lap. Sniffling and coughing, but unheard in the night, the broken Mockingjay cried and cried.

She spotted a shooting star in the distance. Hope sprung in her heart; hope for her dandelion to come back into her life. She murmured under her breath, "I wish for Peeta to come back to me. The real Peeta," as the spark of light galloped across the world. Perhaps he could. For nothing was impossible, right? There had to be a way. She took in a shaky breath and let it out in an audible sigh.

Somewhere not to far away, an ebony bird heard her calling. Her wish. Slowly, the raven shook his head from side to side as an answer to her wish, as if to say, "Nevermore."


End file.
